Cataclysm War | Chapter 91: An Impossible Choice (First Draft)

Friday, August 12, 4 S.E.

Leonidas handed off the empty [Greater Mana Potion] to one of the Royal Guards and sighed. The chaos he’d left in his wake after using the Sunder the Heavens was already recovering, but he’d made his point. The flood of experience he’d received had been beneficial and had pushed him to Level 23 almost instantly, allowing him to add an additional 4 points to his Strength for a total of 45. His Willpower had similarly risen to 70, which in turn meant his psionic abilities were that much more potent.

His Psi pool had only grown to 174, but that was fine.

The Attribute more than made up for the lackluster improvement in resources.

A tremble shook the wall-walk he stood upon, directly above the gatehouse, and Leonidas sighed in irritation. The battering rams assaulting the gates had been relentless, and the gatehouse itself made attacking it nearly impossible. The murder-holes had been helping, but the Terrans below had grown wise to the threat and were using magic to obfuscate the attack vectors to protect the battering rams, along with layers of shields to defend them from his people.

Smart enemies were incredibly annoying. The Demons had been far dumber.

Leonidas directed his gaze out over the ramparts a moment later as he felt his resources steadily replenishing, and swept his eyes over his grandfather’s forces. The revelation that Artur Paendrag was leading the largest force assaulting Dawnhaven hadn’t exactly instilled him with glee, and when he’d recognized his Pops mounted on the horse, he’d had to avert his target at the last moment to strike at some hapless Initiates in the backline instead of the old man, even while cursing himself for the hesitation.

It was one thing to fight a battle; it was a whole other problem when it came to killing someone you loved and respected for your entire life.

The Humanity Alliance forces were still pressing the attack, but their momentum had stalled, and Leonidas could read the signs of flagging morale easily enough with just a mild flex of his [Psionic Focus]. The distant shockwaves from further in the City told him that Ceruviel and Uriel were still fighting, and despite his desire to help them, he’d firmly kept himself from impetuously diverting forces to aid them.

If he wanted to truly help the Venerates, he needed to end the battle at the Prosperity Gate. The cost to do that, though, was what he was struggling with. He knew that his grandfather was relentless; he’d inherited that trait from the old man directly. What he didn’t know was whether or not he was willing to accept the price of truly mitigating him as a threat. There was an element of Leonidas that remained the same: a happy, young college kid who had loved spending weekends with his grandparents, shooting with his grandfather, and riding horses along the old man’s immense ranch trails.

No matter how foolish it might have seemed to anyone else, it wasn’t easy to just forget that sort of bond, no matter how evil the actions of the person it belonged to were. Another shudder from the rams shook the wall-walk and he scowled.

Why’d you have to come here, Pops? You’ve put me in a terrible position.

His people would expect their King to do something decisive, and while Leonidas definitely had a plan to that effect, he was still hesitating. Revealing himself might forestall the conflict, but his sister, father, and mother had all made it abundantly clear—even after Ceruviel and Tarnys had done the same during his initial arrival—that Artur Paendrag was a threat to everything he was trying to build. His grandfather was a titan in the New World, but he’d bent that power toward hatred and xenophobia.

Part of Leonidas could understand, given the cultural and spiritual shock the Aliens must have been.

But the greater part of him was married to one of those Aliens. Hell, he was pretty damn sure he might have loved her by that point.

The Archon-King blew some hair out of his eyes in annoyance and turned to Ilsan and Verity, his Lance-Masters and the leaders of the Royal Guard complement that had rallied to him at the battlezone.

Before he could speak, however, a storm of personality shoved through his golden protectors, and Leonidas found himself abruptly fending off a punch from his Elite rank sister, warding away the reactive paranoia of his Royal Guards with an armored hand in the same moment.

“You dumbass!” Kairi declared, utterly uncaring for royal protocol. “You should have waited!”

Leonidas held up his hands in mock surrender, and his sister glared at him before folding her arms and throwing her shoulder against one of the massive ramparts. An arrow whizzed past her face when she did, and she promptly leaned around to shout through the gap.

“YOU MISSED ME, COCKSUCKER!”

Verity and Ilsan chuckled behind him, and Leonidas cast them withering glances that held little effect as the women looked at his sister with newfound respect.

Trust those Haelfenn maniacs to like her being a nutcase.

“So,” Kairi said as more familiar faces arrived, revealing Synthra, Bardulf, and Parnym looking bloodied and weary, but entirely healthy as they entered the small cordon the Royal Guard had created around Leonidas. “You know who’s leading this shitshow of an assault, right?”

Leonidas exchanged smiles with his friends and stepped closer to Synthra, pulling the redhead into a warm embrace that she melted into with surprising ease, resting her head against his shoulder as he turned back to Kairi, and tried to keep his arm securely around the Sorceress’ waist, and nowhere dangerous.

“Yeah,” he replied calmly, “I know who’s leading it. That’s what I’m trying to figure out how to handle.”

“Killing Pops won’t make this better, Ace,” Kairi said in a surprising turn, idly shifting her head as another arrow whistled through the gap in the ramparts. “I know it may sound crazy coming from me, but killing him won’t fix shit. You need to disarm him—him, and the entire Alliance.”

“Easier said than done, Kai,” Leonidas said quietly, his hand idly rubbing Synthra’s side as the redhead leaned against him in a distracting way, and seemingly allowed herself a rare moment of contentment with his proximity. “I could destroy the old man’s Core, but that is as good as killing him at his age. He won’t last a decade after that. I could take him prisoner, but that won’t work forever, and if any of his zealots escape, they’ll just come back to try to break him out—or worse, we’ll have the System Era’s first case of repeated domestic terrorism.”

Kairi nodded in understanding, and then Bardulf spoke up.

“What about subsuming his authority?” the Shadowblade asked curiously.

“What?” Leonidas said, frowning at the other man. “How?”

“If he surrenders to you, I think it’ll forfeit his Dominion to your control.”

Leonidas raised his eyebrow at Bardulf’s words and turned to Verity and Ilsan, who glanced at his companion and then one another, before slowly nodding.

“It is not a terrible idea, Your Majesty,” Verity said carefully, her words fraught with caution as another tremble rocked the gatehouse beneath them from the steady pounding of the battering rams. “Killing the Iron Duke would end the threat completely, but I understand your reservations about that course of action.”

“Taking his Dominion would be one way to defang his power,” Ilsan continued after she was done, adjusting her stance thoughtfully, “but it would be a stopgap measure. You cannot govern two places at such a distance, and the campaign to occupy the Iron Duke’s holdings might very well expose Dawnhaven to exactly the sort of takeover you feared would happen here.”

Verity nodded in kind and jumped in after Ilsan finished.

“The only reason we’ve been so successful in this defense is that they did not anticipate our forces to be so prepared,” the former Dawnguard Lance-Master said grimly. “If we sent a proper occupation force to the Humanity Alliance, the City would be extremely vulnerable in its absence.”

“And you would have no way of securing the Dominion,” Ilsan concluded finally. “Which means anyone could subsume your authority and take it right back from you. It would be a matter of time, not a matter of possibility.”

Leonidas glanced between the two women when they finished, and then shook his head and looked back out from between the ramparts, eyeing the still-massive force arrayed against the City. They were still climbing the towers, still dying, still refusing to give up. It wasn’t as if they were having no success; he’d already had to send a Dagger of the Royal Guard to relieve one of the tower defense points, but the assault was more or less deadlocked.

A shudder ran through the gatehouse once more, and Leonidas glanced down in annoyance.

Well, except for those fucking battering rams.

“So we need a way to break the threat of the Alliance without me murdering my grandfather, destroying his Core, or taking him prisoner and inciting terrorist retaliation,” Leonidas said wearily, his free hand reaching up to rub his hair. “Great.”

Synthra stirred against his side, and the Sorceress spoke a moment later.

“Why not just disabuse them of the idea that they could ever succeed? All you need is time. Time to raise more armies, time to train more soldiers, and time to solidify the City’s power, Achilles,” she said pointedly. “You don’t need to destroy them; you just need to shatter their belief that they can ever challenge you. The rest will fall into place over time.”

Leonidas raised his eyebrows at her words and then glanced at the Lance-Masters, who were nodding in kind.

“With this attack, there will be a great many people eager to learn to protect their home, Your Majesty,” Verity said after a moment of thought.

“A failed siege always incites patriotism, no matter the world or species,” Ilsan concurred. “By attacking you, as long as they don’t win or make the cost of victory catastrophic, your enemies have handed you an immensely powerful recruitment tool, Your Majesty.”

Leonidas glanced at his friends and sister, who all nodded in agreement, and his lips set themselves into a thoughtful frown.

Shatter their belief, huh? Well, I’ve got experience with that at least…

A plan started to form in his mind as the gatehouse rattled again, and Leonidas glanced down toward the manastone, his eyes narrowing in thought.

Reckless, but it’s not as if it wouldn’t kill two birds with one stone.

“Alright,” he said abruptly, looking up and at all of them again. “You’ve convinced me, but none of you are going to like my plan—except maybe Kairi, because my sister’s crazy.”

“We’re related,” Kairi said idly, “it’s genetic, dumbass.”

Despite the situation, Leonidas found himself laughing.

Given what he was planning, he really couldn’t disagree.

*

Xarina followed the two teenagers as they continued toward the Prosperity Gate, mildly amused and annoyed in equal measure at how easy it was to stalk them. They were still arguing as they walked, though the girl—Sonya, she had learned—had given up truly fighting the boy—John—in his choice, and had seemingly conceded to follow him to the battle, albeit while sticking very close to him.

They’d managed to talk their way past several patrols of Shield-Hosts, and were wandering toward the main thoroughfare at that point, taking side-streets and largely abandoned areas of the City to avoid notice as they crept closer to the distant sound of fighting and screaming. She wasn’t sure why she was still following them, only that without them, she’d probably find it much harder to approach the Archon-King with her suggestion.

It still felt inarguably like treason against her own people, but if the cost of saving their lives was subsuming them under the inevitable control of a Cataclysm, she wasn’t sure there was really a choice. The Starhold would bloody Dawnhaven, but the allies they’d chosen were helplessly outmatched, and if the Matriarch and her Ascendants actually did manage to kill one of the Venerates before Xarina could stop everything, it would be too late.

Perhaps not today or tomorrow, but the Cataclysm would seek vengeance for that sin eventually, and her people would die to the last under the storm of his fury.

Damn you, Yvrain. Your paranoia has cost us everything.

Xarina could still feel the spiritual shockwaves from the battles at the Moonrise and Sunrise gates, where the Venerates were fighting. For some of a lower Rank, the feeling would be intangible, but for her, it was still perceivable, like an itch over her skin. Both were still unleashing enough power to make her flesh crawl, and her spine shivered at the distant echoes of it.

If the Ascendants hadn’t overwhelmed them already, they likely wouldn’t for some time yet, and more of her people’s greatest champions would die in vain if she couldn’t halt the conflict in time. The sloth with which the adolescents were moving vexed her, but she hadn’t yet thought of a way to approach them in a trustworthy manner.

‘Take me to your leader so I can reveal his secrets and make the Svartfenn surrender!’ was not exactly the most rational plan, and even if she did reveal the fact that she was a Starhold agent to the two, that’d only make them trust her even less. She needed something to truly earn their trust, but she was completely at a loss. A rational part of her mind, beneath the natural prejudice, understood what they were feeling—their world was being attacked, and they wanted to protect it.

The Nightlander in her respected the drive, even if it was a doomed errand.

The two adolescents could not impact the battle’s outcome either way.

Motion caught her eyes before it ever alerted the pair of young Terrans, and Xarina slid against a wall, reaffirming her [Stealth] and glancing around it to see a group of five shadowy shapes moving around a nearby building. Her lambent gaze narrowed, and she realized with a spike of alarm that they were Svartfenn; Shadestriders, if their accoutrement and limited stealth were any indication.

They had probably slipped into the City on a mission of assassination, but found the Palace impossible to infiltrate. No surprises there, given the Royal Guard’s power, but now they’d spied two wandering adolescents and found easy prey to vent their frustrations on. She knew Shadestriders well. They were usually the junior arm of Night Sister operations, used as rapid-assault complements to aid swift elimination missions.

Lightly armored, but highly mobile.

Xarina gritted her teeth as the five spotted the adolescents and drew their knives.

If the children died, her easy path to the Archon-King would die with them. If they lived, then that would mean she’d killed her own people for lightlanders. It was an impossible choice. On one hand, the potential destruction of her entire people—on the other, the slaying of her own kin. Few things were more reviled in the Evernight than killing one’s own people to protect outsiders.

The Shadestriders wouldn’t stop with words alone, she knew.

The adolescents were too tempting a target, and calling out would only make things messier than they needed to be. The Svartfenn were probably already under the influence of whatever combat enhancements they’d consumed upon sneaking into the City.

Xarina clenched her jaw and drew her shortswords as her [Starshadow Core] accelerated within her dantian.

Nocturne, she prayed silently, forgive me.

Xarina narrowed her eyes, let her mana flow through her, and stepped.

Space compressed alongside shadow, and Xarina moved between both, stepping into the darkness of the building she hid beside and emerging in the shadow of the nearest Shadestrider. Before the woman could do more than twitch, Xarina struck; plunging her right blade into her collarbone toward her heart and punching through muscle and bone to pierce it, killing the woman almost instantly.

The Svartfar spasmed as she dropped, and Xarina stepped again, using another chunk of her mana to appear between two more Shadestriders. A third cried out in alarm and warned the Terrans at the same time, who spun in terror, but Xarina was already attacking.

Her right blade took the first Shadestrider in the back of the neck and she left it there, ducking under a wild swing from his companion and conjuring a miniature singularity in her empty right palm, which she drove into the second woman’s face; devouring her lesser-Tempered face, skull, and part of her brain into the abyssal hunger of the singularity within seconds.

That left two more, and they had already frozen in recognition of her kill, but Xarina was in motion before they could do more than glance at each other. She retrieved her sword from the dead man and stepped again, traversing the distance and appearing before both Svartfenn. Their eyes widened in realization, and she locked her jaw, striking faster than the Adepts could react. Her right blade sliced the throat of the first woman, and she smoothly ducked under the retaliatory spear-stab of the remaining man.

“[Why?!]” he demanded, backpedaling fruitlessly.

“[To save us all,]” Xarina responded with frustrated sadness, and stepped forward to slash aside his spear and punch her blade into his dantian, devouring his core instinctively with her spatial mana and then slicing off his head in one smooth stroke of her left sword.

Her eyes closed after she did it, and Xarina swallowed back self-hatred and revulsion, suppressing her tears of regret and spinning toward the Terrans, who were staring at her in a mix of awe and terror.

“Wh-who are you?!” the boy demanded, raising his longsword in a surprisingly steady hand, while the girl stepped behind him. “Are you an enemy?!”

Xarina swallowed back her withering response and wiped her blades on her cloak, sheathing them after she did.

“I’m an Adventurer,” she said truthfully, showing her empty hands. “I work for the Guild. I saw those five sneaking up on you and took matters into my own hands to assure your safety.”

A flash of uncertainty passed over the boy’s face, and he turned to the girl, who nodded after a moment.

“She’s telling the truth, John. I felt it.”

She felt it? Some sort of Truthsayer? Thank Nocturne I didn’t lie.

John lowered his sword warily and glanced at the dead bodies, swallowing visibly.

“Um, thanks, miss—”

“My name is Xarina,” Xarina cut in with a hint of impatience. “And I have important news for the Archon-King. You’re acquainted with him, are you not?”

The pair regarded her warily again at that, and John scowled.

“How do you know that?”

Xarina resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I saw you at the Coronation and the ball, John. You spoke with him like an old friend.”

She had, in fact, witnessed that. It had come back to her while she’d been following them, which proved very useful for the present moment. After a moment, as if to solidify her relief, Sonya nodded again.

“Truth, John. She must have been at the Ball, too.”

“I was,” Xarina confirmed as she drew closer, and the wary teenagers relaxed a little. “But I also do need to speak to the Archon-King. It’s a matter of life and death.”

Sonya’s shoulders straightened at her words, and she nodded once.

“Okay, Xarina,” she said with a tense smile. “You saved our lives, pretty much. I think we can ask Ace to hear you out.”

John blinked and looked at the girl, then turned back to Xarina.

“Sonny, are you—”

“She saved our lives, John. Stop being a jackass,” Sonya said tersely. “She’s telling the truth. We need to get her to Ace.”

John puffed up for a moment, then finally sighed and nodded.

“Okay,” he said at last, eyeing Xarina and then nodding to the street. “Think you can get us past all the patrols without being stopped?”

Xarina smiled at him, with genuine amusement, for the first time.

“With ease,” she assured the pair.

The teenagers nodded, and the three of them set off at a run.

Forgive me, my kin, Xarina said silently into her mind as she followed the two Terrans, but your lives bought our people their own. Rest in honor. I will remember your faces.